You spend half your life saving up to buy a house. Then you spend the rest of your life working to keeping the house from falling down.
When we first moved in to the old fixer-upper, I made a chart with all the projects that we were going to tackle. Paint the bedrooms. Fix the ceiling in the entrance way. Clean up the basement. That enthusiasm lasted for a while.
As former renters, we had a world of spackle and primer to investigate. I wielded a caulking gun with gusto. I chatted with neighbors about the best way to fix cracks in plaster. I explored the aisles of Lowe's and Home Depot. Steve got big books about plumbing and electric wiring. I was Martha Stewart, Bob Vila, Paige Davis.
Nearly four years later, that's all grown a bit old. It feels like a losing battle. Decay and erosion happen faster than we can repair. Even as the men constructed a new kitchen, the house laughed at our efforts, and the upstairs bathroom sagged another inch with the weight of a waterlogged floor. The paint jobs of the first year faded and new cracks formed. I positioned another potted plant over a hole in the porch floor.
Still, this losing battle of home repair must go on. We decided that instead of mounting steady and weekly skirmishes against time, that we would reserve certain weekends for shock and awe against the house. We blocked out this weekend for one of those major campaigns. We had to paint the kitchen.
We briefly talked about hiring someone to do it for us, but Scrooge McDuck nixed that idea. We're still feeling the sting in the checkbook of putting in a new kitchen and Steve didn't want to stretch us any further.
Two days of priming and painting. The ceiling and the walls are done. The trim is primed, but not painted. We ran out of clean brushes and energy by this afternoon, so the battle may continue into the evenings this week.
It does look lovely. The walls are an off-white (Benjamin Moore "Moonlight White"). In a couple of weeks, a ketchupy hand print or two will decorate the walls. Gradually, the house will find more sneaky ways to undo our efforts. But, for the moment, it is peaceful and perfect.
Apt. 11d 
Funny, we painted too this weekend. I thought we were done, but alas the condo in Prov is still on the market. Definitely not only a buyers market but a renters market too. Sigh. But the kitchen looks great! I lament the fact that we didn’t paint cabinets sooner. I think it’s a big improvement.
LikeLike
We’ve got painters doing the exterior right now. They have to replace some of the wood because I forgot to clean the gutters for 2 years. Then, we’ve got to get some pointing done. We painted the whole inside ourselves and I’ve managed to repress enough of the memory that I will probably do it myself when it needs done again. It took three people six days because we had to cover Pepto-pink walls. However, painting the whole exterior is just beyond my time, talent, and toleration of heights. My summer projects are building garage storage and the ever-popular mouse war. I thought mouse war was done, but they found another way in this past winter. I blame the liberal media and my neighbor’s bird feeder.
LikeLike
I thought we were laying down on the job until I heard a friend’s story over the weekend. After each rainstorm they are awaking to giant pieces of roofing in their back yard. Their neighbor is evidently guilty of some seriously delayed maintenance.
Hey, I may have left the cracked plaster and peeling paint go, but at least my roof is still attached! It’s all about a lowering of standards, is it not?
LikeLike
I always thought our rat and mouse infestations were due to the attractive dumpsters behind the restaurants couple hundred yards from our house. Liberal media? Works for me.
We’ve done nicely with poison bait, but have had to scratch our heads to put the bait where littles couldn’t get at it. Outside, screwed into a piece of plywood itself screwed into a pallet. Inside, in the walls behind the plumber’s access panel behind the bathtub.
LikeLike